Are You Under the Spell of Another Author's Book?
get past it now
It is the season of spells and curses, a couple of my favorite succinct ways to think about what the heck is going on. I was recently talking to a writer about his latest revision of his novel, and I exclaimed “Yes! You dispersed the spell!” I knew the book was finally his, and he’d be able to write it as it should be now.
We talked about it further, and he told me his new structure and his new concept. All sounded great. Then we harked back to previous drafts. It was now clear what had gone wrong.
When he started the book he wanted to write something like X. (You may substitute any novel you want for X. It’s the one you wished you had written.) Not only X, but also the other X. Yes, he wanted to write a novel that was a combination of these two marvelous Xs that contained all their drama and compelling qualities and appeal. We went into this more deeply and saw how his love and admiration for those novels had put up a barrier between him and his own book. Easy to see, in hindsight. For several years he’d hoped the opposite was happening; that his appreciation might somehow morph into a facsimile that would get him where he wanted to go in the writing world.
He wrote and wrote and wrote and revised and revised and revised. He got to know his story and his characters inside out, yet the best container for them was elusive. All the finished drafts were poised to work, but they didn’t quite. This is so frustrating and deceptive. A draft can work well enough, but still be far from fulfilling its promise. It’s hard to pinpoint what is wrong with an adequate, derivative draft, because the craft can be exemplary. It’s a beautiful dish that tastes good but not amazing, in the end.
Finally he hit bottom. The bottom is a great place to reach, if it’s not too destructive and painful. It’s great when it consists of an admission of defeat, a relinquishment of a certain strain of eager effort, a loosening of the intellect in favor of deeper structures of the personality—a humbling of sorts, though its best if a sense of humor is retained so this process isn’t too serious. Ah! Isn’t it amusing that I wanted all this time to write a book that X already wrote? The universe laughs once again!
He swam back up to the surface and found his own book there, the one he had to write, the one that no one else could find anywhere, because it existed in him alone. A blessed situation.
This story is an important one. As a writing teacher and as a writer I have seen and experienced versions of it over and over. The spell cast by other books is powerful. When interviewed authors often say they don’t read fiction at all while they are composing for fear of the cadence of other sentences or some other form of influence.
This is not the same thing as writing intentionally in conversation with another book—literary fan fiction. (I teach a course in this, I’m a fan.) In that case the influence is the point, as is commenting on it or subverting it in some way in the new work. I think it’s a great way to be in contact with beloved works whose authors are dead and unavailable for conversation.
A spell is an influence that overtakes the intentions of an author toward their own book. It’s not helpful!
How to get rid of a spell?
A few tips.
Recognize it and admit it.
Rrite out what about the novel that is casting the spell you wish you could replicate. What are those qualities? How did that book make you feel that you hope others would feel about your book? Find that feeling.
Write out what you want your book to feel like. How do you want it to feel while you are writing it? What are you bringing to that feeling that comes from your singular self and life?
Talk to your book. Not to that other book, but yours alone. A book is an entity with a voice and a will toward its own embodiment. You are its partner; you and your book are a unique couple and your union will work when the two way communication is open and honest.
So ask your book what it wants from you. What shape does it want you to give it? What tone? What time frame? What point of view? Accept that it can take a while for this to come clear, but with patience and coaxing a shape will appear. Often it turns out to be much simpler than you thought.
I have found that there is a huge chasm between the idea for a book and the book itself, and lots of spells and distractions and doubts rattle around in the valley. You have an idea for your book, but suddenly another book seems … better. It is though? Or more importantly, does it matter? When you write your own book, no one else has a hold of it. It’s yours forever. To write your own book is to dispel envy and insecurity. Those are curses!
This Hallowe’en, treat yourself to a long conversation with your very own unique book. It’s ringing your doorbell.
Been there. Done that. Great advice!
The spell has plagued movies for a long time. And from the top down. After an original wonderful movie comes out and is successful, the powers that be want only other versions of that. And the new versions may be good (or dreadful) but they’re rarely great or transformative. And the audience gets bored and stops going to movies and everyone says, movies are dead. No one wants to watch movies anymore. Until a new really original wonderful movie finally comes along and everyone goes to the movies to see it. Of course you’re talking about something different. How for a writer the touchstone work we love can cast the spell. But same result. The book can’t quite reach the transformative power of an original work until we break the spell of the work that haunts us.
A lot to think about. Thank you! 💖 🪄
AE, your Sundays are so consistently brilliant, thoughtful, helpful. I was thinking about just this thing yesterday, while reading a book that I believe must have been written under the spell of another. And now I'll turn around and look at me.